Morganville Puppet Pals
by scribblexscratch
Summary: Potter Puppet Pals skits turned into Morganville Vampires skits.
1. Oliver's Diary

**~Oliver's Diary~**

"Where's Myrnin?" Claire asked Shane.

"I don't know," he replied. "I can't feel when he's not around."

"I hope he gets back soon, so we can play vampire Sudoku or…something."

Myrnin emerged from the hallway sprinting, though why he was using a human speed, Claire didn't know.

"OH MY GOD, LOOK WHAT I FOUND!" He shouted with urgency.

"Is that a book?" Shane asked.

"I know a thing or two about books and that's a book," Claire nodded.

"It's not just any book, guys." Myrnin shook the book emphatically.

"Is it a young adult vampire romance novel?" Shane asked excitedly.

Myrnin and Claire gave him disbelieving looks.

~10 Seconds later…~

"Anyway, I just happened to find this book in Oliver's bedroom in a locked trunk under his bed," Myrnin continued. "It's his diary!"

"Wow! Shall we read it?" Shane asked, face to the corner he was put into time out in.

"I've got a better idea," Myrnin said. "Let's read it!"

"Oh, what a fascinating character study this will be," Claire nodded to herself.

"Okay," Myrnin opened the book. "This is the first entry, Dear Diary…"

~Entry One~

_Today, I ate some oatmeal for my breakfast. It was flavorless and watery. I thought of my mother. _

_I cried._

~End of first entry~

"I'm hungry," Shane announced, spinning his arms back and forth with boredom.

"What else is new, fatty?" Myrnin said to Shane, displeased that he was interrupted. "Let's get to the good stuff…"

~Entry two~

_Today, I put on my raincoat, and traveled to Nocturne Alley. I purchased a pair of fancy mice. When I brought them home, one devoured the other and died of loneliness. _

_I felt envy._

~End of entry~

"This is _hilarious_," Myrnin proclaimed.

"Oh look, Myrnin." Claire said suddenly. "I see your name."

"Oh, you're good at reading, Claire." Shane marveled.

"_What?_" Myrnin demanded in outrage.

~Entry three~

_Today, Myrnin showed me his middle finger. When I attempted to punish him with a staking, he shoved me into a wall screaming, "Bother, bother," over and over. Later, he and his assistant repeated the violent act until I lost consciousness. Tonight, I prayed for the first time in twenty years._

_I prayed for the end._

~End of entry~

"I remember that, Claire. Give me five," he said to Shane, raising his hand in the ear.

"You already took my money, Myrnin."

Myrnin sighed. "Never mind."

~Entry Four~

_I lost a button on my shirt today. Amelie pointed it out in front of the entire Elders Council. Oh, cruel attention._

_Button, O button,_

_Oh where hath thou fled?_

_Did thee tarry too long amongst fabric and thread?_

_Did thee roll of my bosom and cease to exist?_

_How I wish I could follow thee, into the mist._

~End of entry~

"What is a…_bosom_, Myrnin?" Shane asked seriously.

"Um…"

"Yeah, _tell him_, Myrnin." Claire insisted with a grin.

"Oh look, another page." Myrnin buried his face in the book pointedly.

~Entry Five~

_Today while in the bathtub—_

["EW!" all three proclaimed.]

_I fell asleep and had a nightmare. I was riding a festral through a thunderstorm, every thunderclap resolved into…__**their **__voices. "Bother, bother."_

_Suddenly, it became music. I was at the Yule Ball, with Amelie. I asked her to dance._

_She asked me to die._

_Would that I could, Amelie. Would that I could._

["My friend is _awesome_," Myrnin proclaimed brightly.]

_When I awoke, my skin was prune-like from the tepid bathwater, and I was late for golf with Richard Morrell._

~End of entry~

"Mm, I like prunes." Shane said brightly.

"Did somebody say _prunes_?" Amelie poked her head into the room, which wasn't that strange, considering they were in the Glass House living room, and she had a knack for popping up out of nowhere..

"I said prunes!" Shane said. "How did she know?" he asked Claire.

"What are you monkeys up to? Studying or something like that?" Amelie asked.

"No," Myrnin shook his head. "We're invading Oliver's privacy by reading his personal diary, which we stole from his room."

Amelie paused for a moment. "…But you don't have any _prunes_ do you?"

"I'm afraid not," Myrnin shook his head again.

Amelie stared at him with disapproval. "I'm _very_ disappointed in you, Myrnin."

And she disappeared.

"Okay, back to the stinky book!" Myrnin said giddily, and delved back in.

~Entry six~

_Today, Claire's boyfriend accidentally drank of my more bitter blends of cocoa. He promptly vomited a glittering rainbow of foul waste and Common Grounds erupted in applause, triggering my migraine. I aborted the shop and was left to clean the boy's sick. _

_Halfway through, Myrnin showed up, and bragged about his many affairs with duchesses and ladies of the past._

_Then he told me I smelled of broccoli and left without wishing me a happy birthday._

_Later, I noticed my bottle of Sangria was gone. I settled for a cup of coffee, scalding my writing hand in the process and spilling it on my pants._

_I walked to Dr. Goldman's, covering the wet spot with a book. Patience Goldman laughed at me and made me wait while she and her husband treated a young vampire with a minor silver burn._

_After an hour, it became apparent that they had forgotten about me, so I returned to my shop and found that I had locked myself out._

_I called for Myrnin, who turned up covered in lipstick and clearly having finished my Sangria. _

_He broke open my door, laughed at me, punched me in the shoulder too hard, and left me alone._

_I thought of my father._

_I cried._

~End of entry~

"This got boring," Myrnin announced with displeasure. "Let's write a _new_ entry."

"That's a really fun idea," Shane nodded.

"Here's one of the pens I carry with me at all times!" Claire announced conveniently.

"Okay," Myrnin took it, and began reading aloud as he wrote. "'_I am Oliver. I'm so sad because I poop my pants—all the time. I don't have any friends, because I stink like broccoli and poop. I teach how to make coffee to Myrnin, and it's really boring because he's so cool, and it makes me have depression. Okay, I think I'll go cry now, because—but not before I poop my pants—because…bye._'"

Shane laughed and clapped his hands. "Can I try?"

"Be my guest," Myrnin said graciously and handed Shane the book and pen.

Shane did as Myrnin, reading as he wrote. "'I…am…O—"

"Okay, Shane. That was a good try," Claire stopped him.

The front door of the Glass House banged open and Oliver came in, holding his head and grumbling.

"Somebody knocked my unconscious and ransacked my shop—wait a minute, that book! What are you doing?" Oliver shouted.

"Oliver, Shane stole your diary!" Myrnin accused to shift the blame, rather splendidly if he should say so himself.

"_What?_" Oliver proclaimed indignantly. "You didn't _read _it, did you?"

"Oh, he read it all right. He read it _all_." Myrnin nodded.

"This is unacceptable," Oliver screamed.

"I liked the story about the button, Oliver." Shane said honestly.

Oliver's eyes stopped bulging. "You…you _did_?"

"It made me _sad_," Shane nodded. "Thinking about that little button, lost and alone. I hope you find your button, Oliver."

A tear slid down Oliver's cheek. "So do I, Claire's boyfriend. So. Do. I."

"I like buttons," Shane announced happily.


	2. The Portal

**~The Portal~**

**Based off "The Vortex," by the Potter Puppet Pals**

"In slow motion, the flowers fell from my hand and shattered like glass." Oliver said with a distant gaze in his eyes. "And when I looked into the mirror, I was a beautiful milkmaid. And then I woke up crying, and I don't know why."

"Well I once had a dream that I was a baby pig, living on a farm! Oink, oink, oink!" Myrnin confided brightly, playing with the puffiness of his velvet shirt—which Oliver thought looked suspiciously like a lady's blouse.

"You don't understand," Oliver continued urgently. "This was a life-changing vision. I may never be the same—"

Michael bowled Oliver over, zooming past Myrnin and him to get to Amelie at the other end of the room.

"Amelie, we need your help! Vampire emergency!"

"Oh boy, let's go!" Myrnin cheered for Amelie and they left with Michael, leaving Oliver on the floor.

"Amelie, Shane's stuck in a portal! I think it's to an alternate dimension!" Claire shouted when the three vampires arrived.

"Oh, not again." Amelie sighed.

Myrnin just laughed.

"Oh, it's the most terrifying _thing!_" Shane declared. "It tickles in all the wrong ways!"

"This wouldn't happen if you weren't so _fat_," Michael said to Shane through the rainbow-y opening of the portal. "What should we do, Myrnin?"

"Mm, fetch me the Problem Stick." Myrnin snapped his fingers to Claire.

"I think I'm going through puberty!" Shane cried with horror.

"Don't go into the light, Shane!" Screamed Eve, who appeared conveniently because this writer needed her to do so.

"Here it is," Claire opened a portal to the lab and reached in, retrieving the Problem Stick: a broom.

"Ah, yes. My _old friend_," Myrnin said with devilish delight. "Let's see if I still remember how to do this—poke, and…"

After jutting the Problem Stick into the portal, the light desisted and Shane fell to the floor with a noise of shock.

Michael nudged him, checking if he was dead. "Are you okay, Shane?"

Shane sat up, coughing. "You kidding me? Mikey, I've never felt better. I'm a _man_ now."

Shane was wearing a leather jacket, had jet black sunglasses on (_indoors_, which made him an instant-badass) and holding keys to what were most likely a douchily-loud motorcycle.

"'Sup, Eve." Shane said with an arched brow.

Eve blushed. "H—oh, Shane."

"It's _Shanaldo _now," he corrected her. "What's up, Myrnin? Amelie?"

"Wow," Myrnin marveled. "You're _much_ cooler than Michael."

Michael's face went blank. "…_What_?"

"Let's have a beach party: IN TEXAS!" Shane shouted, and everyone started dancing, even Amelie, though it was like watching a ballet solo—everyone _knows_ white supremacists can't dance worth a crap, and Amelie's _all _white.

Michael stood awkwardly, the music somehow magically playing in the Glass House even though there were no speakers or stereo to speak of playing. Slowly, something inside of him built with pressure, and he snapped.

"No, no!"

Michael shouted, the music screeching to a halt. He vamp-sped to Myrnin's lab, mixed a likely dangerous concoction from the chemicals, and threw the contents (still in the vile) at Shane's face when he returned.

The concoction exploded and spilt all over Shane in a puff of purple, sparkly smoke, and Shane returned to his dorky, teenage self.

"I rule the town, you hear?" Michael got in Shane's face. "I'm top dog. No one can have more testosterone than me. I'm Michael Glass. I'm the angelic, sensitive musician-type, the hottest guy in this series. I'm _Michael Glass! _Okay?"

"I'm _so sorry_, Michael." Shane sobbed.

"Well good!" Michael screamed. "Now let's have a beach party: IN TEXAS!"

He shouted and the music started up again.

"Yeah!" Michael grunted, flailing awkwardly as the others began to dance, too. "Michael Glass, Michael Glass, _yeah_. Michael Glass, _mm_, that's me:

_My name is Michael Glass, I'm the king of Morganville._

_I'm better than anybody in Morganville._

_I'm hip and I'm awesome, all the girls know my name._

_M-M-Michael Gla-a-ass, that is my name._

_Michael Glass, Michael Glass, _do the shoobie-doowaps!"

Everyone looked at each other, but did it hesitantly, because they were afraid Michael might go apeshit again. Besides, they were mid-song.

"_Shoobie-doowap, shoobie-doowap."_

"_I kicked Oliver's ass when I was a ghost,_

_I was even awesome when I was a ghost._

_But my grandpa died, when I was a vampire._

_I grew up as a ghost, unable to step outside like an agoraphobic freak._

_Michael Glass—"_

"_Shoobie-doowap"_

"_Michael Glass—"_

"_Shoobie-doowap"_

"_Michael Glass…"_

"_Shoobie-doowap, shoobie-doowap."_

"_That's me….!"_

After the music stopped, it just got quiet and awkward, aside from the sounds of everyone's panting from one _kickass_ musical number.

"You guys are my best friends, you know that?" Michael panted.

"Oh, Michael." Eve sighed.

Myrnin sniffed. "You're gonna be all right, Michael, my boy."

"We'll always love you, Michael." Claire said tenderly.

"Yes we will," Myrnin nodded.

Myrnin hugged Michael, and slowly everyone joined in.

"I love you, too, Mi—" Michael pushed Shane away before he could get in on the love, though.

"Lose some weight before you hug me, Shane."

"Buh?"


	3. Emo Angst

~Emo Angst~

Based off "Wizard Angst," by the Potter Puppet Pals

"I feel cranky and pubescent today and I _don't know why_," Shane growled. "I'm gonna take it out on people I _like_."

"Hello, Shane." Sam popped (from the _grave?_) from nowhere. "What sort of tomfoolery shall we get up to today?"

"No tomfoolery today, Sam. I'm sick of your dreadful speckled mug."

Sam's face went blank. "Why must you hurt me in this way, Shane?"

"Yeah, what's your problem, Shane?" Claire said with accusatory tones in her girlish voice.

"My family is dead, my life sucks, I can't hold down a girlfriend, and I'm surrounded by f*cking _vampires_ and sh*t all the time! I mean what the _f*ck_?"

"B—But it's _paranormal_, Shane. The vampires are paranormal!" Sam defended his people.

"Well I still have nightmares—about Myrnin eating my skin clean off every night!" Shane shouted. "I can't take it anymore. I-QUIT-MORGANVILLE."

Sam gasped.

"But what about fighting you-know-who?"

"…Why are you saying you-know-who, Claire? You guys're practically enemies with everyone," Sam said very truthfully.

"Fine, it's all up to…_you_ now, Myrnin." Shane spun, finding Myrnin in the refrigerator, eating all their Nutella like an asshat.

"B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-but…_myew,_" Myrnin made an indiscriminate sound of displeasure and disagreement, especially when Shane took the Nutella from him.

"Go fight Bishop!" Shane gave Myrnin a shove.

Myrnin opened a portal in time, landing in Bishop's citadel or cell or wherever the hell Amelie was keeping him, because he wasn't killed in the books just yet, or at least Rachel Caine hasn't said a word about it in the books as far as the writer knows.

"Hello, little fool." Bishop greeted cordially.

"Mmmmmmm…." Myrnin whimpered, shaking.

"Wanna piece of me? What?" Bishop shook a fist at him.

"Mmmmmm…_yard sale_," Myrnin muttered incoherently from fear and ran away.

"Yeah, you run away!" Bishop shouted like a wannabe gangsta as Myrnin disappeared through the portal again.

"I-I-I can't _do _it," Myrnin whimpered to Claire, laying his head in her lap and shaking.

"You tried your best, Myrnin." Claire patted his head and made him sit up, there was Nutella all over his face and it was getting on her jeans.

"…What's _Shane_ doing?" Myrnin looked over to where Shane stood in the corner.

"_Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst…" _Shane said in time with the bashes to the wall he was doing with his face.

"He's a little off today, haven't you noticed?" Claire asked.

"Maybe he's in _looove_?" Myrnin sang.

Claire stared at him like he was the biggest retard on the planet, and as he stood there in lime green hip-hugging pants and Nutella spread nonsensically over his face, he pretty much _was_.

"Who'd fall in love with such an a—?" Eve said from the stairs.

"Maybe he needs a hug!" Myrnin cut Eve off brightly.

"I don't _want _a hug!" Shane shouted.

"Give me a hug, Shane." Myrnin approached him expectantly.

"No!"

"Hugging~!" Myrnin reached out and grabbed him.

"I _warned _you!" Shane shoved him off and started to wail on Myrnin.

Claire went away and was magically replaced by Oliver, as if beamed down by the Starship Enterprise.

"_What_ is this _rumpus_?" Don't you mean _ruckus_, Olli-dear? You're not King Max, and this isn't _Where the Wild Things Are_.

"Shane hit me!" Myrnin accused as he and Shane stopped their scuffle.

"Myrnin invaded my personal bubble!"

Something Oliver could relate to. "Methinks some severe punishment is in order here."

"Oh no," Myrnin and Shane said in unison.

"The two of you will be dragged by your ears to Founder's Square, where a drunken Bishop will be waiting with a cactus, and then—"

Myrnin and Shane rushed Oliver, punching him in the stomach so hard he crapped his pants.

Oliver got an odd, almost thoughtful look on his face, and excused himself.

Amelie came in cracking up, watching Oliver walk away. "Oh man, that was _awesome_ guys!"

"Thanks, Amelie!" Sam shouted, from the closet he'd been hiding in until this very moment in time.

"Are you still full of that emo angst, Shane?" Amelie inquired.

"I think I can appreciate life a lot more now," because he got to both use his fists _twice_, once against Oliver, and made Oliver crap his pants, all within the same five minutes. Yup, he was better than he'd been in years.

"Well that's just fantastic!" Amelie clapped.

Claire got beamed back down by Star Trek's Enterprise. "Hey, guys! Ew…what's that smell?"

"Why it's Oliver's greatest brew of all," Myrnin said and they all erupted in laughter.

Then Amelie flew away into the sky.

"_Everyone make a wish,"_ Myrnin whispered.


	4. Shane's Disease

~Shane's Disease~

Based off "Ron's Disease," by the Potter Puppet Pals

"Hi, I'm Eve Rosser. What a beautiful day here in the city of Morganville—home of the dastardly and nocturnally evil—tours!"

"Every day is beautiful with _you_ here, Eve!" Shane popped up from nowhere and touched Eve's shoulder with the emphasis of _you_. "…_But_…"

"But _what_, Shane? _What_ could be _wrong_?" Eve demanded, ready to pluck his eyes out and wear them as earrings.

"I've…got a secret affliction, Eve." He confessed.

"DISGUSTING!" Eve flung herself away.

"You don't even know what it _is_, Eve!" Shane shouted. "It's lice."

"Get. Out." And she meant it seriously.

"It's vampire lice!" Which meant it was probably like herpes, or some weird VTD—Vampirically transmitted disease—but that in and of itself was weird, because Shane wasn't a vampire…but for the sake of the story, he's able to get them!

"Did somebody say lice?" Amelie popped up in a portal, too blasé for the context she was referring to.

"I said lice," Shane said. "How did you know?"

"Eve, you need to help your friend." Amelie insisted. "Another infestation is the _last_ thing the town needs."

"Okay, fine." Eve sighed.

"Now, since lice are vampiric creatures, you must venture to the middle of town and seek the help of Myrnin, the terrible dimwitted oaf. He'll know what to do."

"Yaaay!" Shane cheered, jumping up and down happily.

"_Don't do that_," Eve whispered sharply. "Let's go."

~CUE THE QUEST!~

They opened the door to Myrnin's lab, finding it messy and chaotic as ever. It even had fresh meth lab smell!

"Ugh, I can't breathe." Eve complained, clutching her stomach.

"Ooh! What's that?" Shane exclaimed with curiosity.

"What?" Eve turned to what he was looking at. A lump of brown and something curly was in the corner.

"It's a giant furry _mattress_! May I jump on it?" Shane asked, despite the fact that the "mattress" was _breathing_.

"Yes, do as you wish, you diseased fuck-tard." Eve stepped aside. "Wait, no! Look! It's moving!"

Myrnin rose, towering over Eve and Shane with his overall tallness.

"_Hello…children…_" he grunted in sleepiness.

"Hello, Myrnin. I need—oof!"

Myrnin had spun around, inadvertently hitting Shane and sending him halfway across the lab.

"We've come for your loony science advice, Myrnin." Eve provided, since Shane was currently unconscious.

Myrnin grumbled and tried to wake more as Shane was regaining his senses on the floor. "…_What_?"

"I've got _vampire lice_, Myrnin!" Shane shouted from beneath the table he'd been thrown into, he'd probably found a penny and decided to go after it because it was shiny. "And I need your help!"

"Oh, well then…let little Myrnin…take a little…nap…" Myrnin rested his head on a table.

"You just _took_ a nap!" Eve slapped him. "Get up, you old meat-sack!"

"All right, all right." Myrnin grumbled.

"Right here, take a look!" Eve grabbed a magnifying glass from a table (like Myrnin _wouldn't_ have a magnifying glass in his lab). "Millions of little monsters have spawned on Shane's already filthy scalp."

"Oh, now kids, just listen to me:

[Music that sounded an awful lot like flatulence accompanied by a very gooselike accordion began playing]

_If you wanna take care of that vampire lice,_

_You gotta listen to Myrnin's good advice._

_Rub meat in your hair until it starts to stink,_

_Let it sit for an hour, wash it off in the sink._

_Then take some mayonnaise and rub it into your roots,_

_And wipe it all off on an old pair of boots._

_Spin in a circle,_

_Clap your hands twice,_

_Now you ain't got any…lice_."

Myrnin finished rather intelligently, rhyming "twice" with the word "lice" in a song _about_ lice.

"Great song, Myrnin!" Shane cheered. "But I'm unemployed and a lazy asshole, I can't _afford_ any mayonnaise."

Myrnin roared in frustration.

"Hm," Eve made a thoughtful sound. "Well, what if we just light his head on fire!"

"Well, there's _another_ way to kill vampire lice," Eve couldn't help but notice that Myrnin had just brushed off her brilliant idea. "But you ain't gonna like it."

Why does Myrnin sound backwoods-y and unintelligible just because he's only just waking up?

"Are you _sure_ this is going to work, Myrnin?" Shane's girly voice sounded strange because he was currently suspended upside down in ropes above Myrnin's worktable.

"Shut up!"

Myrnin whacked Shane in the head with a metal pole, something that looked like a section of a streetlamp. He gave him another smack when Shane's first moan of pain died out.

"You're cured," Myrnin announced as Shane whimpered.

"Oh, thank you, Myrnin." Shane said gratefully, but a bit woozily. "I feel one-hundred percent better. It's as if the lice never existed, and…"

Shane's words were drowned out by Eve's thoughts, all echoey and almost scary because of the emphasis on them at the moment.

_With the power of Myrnin's mighty light pole, I can solve all my problems!_

"MYRNIN!" Eve screamed, jerking him to attention. "You skills are needed elsewhere! Follow me—and bring your muscles!"

"I'm _tired_, Eve." Myrnin groaned. "You…go do it yourself…"

"I'll leave a small pile of Gummi Sharks outside your lab every day for a _month_."

Myrnin gasped. "You got yourself a deal, Even Rucker…ser…" It's hard for Myrnin to speak when he just wakes up, thus why he butchered Eve's name.

"Okay, follow me!" Eve burst from his lab.

~Convenient Segue Ahoy!~

Monica stood outside Common Grounds with a wide bitch-grin on her face, turning bitchier and uglier when she saw Eve and Myrnin. Nice lipstick, Monica. What shade is that, slut pink?

"Oh, hello, _Walking Dead_." She smiled. "Hello, Crazy Vamp Myrnin."

"Hello, _female Satan_." Eve said cordially, and then leant up to Myrnin's ear. "_Okay. Club it right now!_"

Myrnin walked over and whacked Monica right in the head—the wicked witch is dead…_unconscious_. Damn.

"_Yes_," Eve nodded. "We've cured her lice, Myrnin. Good boy," she took a Gummi Shark from her purse and tossed it at him.

Myrnin caught it joyously in his mouth.

"Come on!" Eve dashed inside the coffee shop.

Inside, Oliver was standing around, doing nothing and gazing into the expanse of emptiness that was his mind—pretty much what went down when Eve worked there.

"Ah, Ms. Rosser, have you considered entering into my Protection?" He greeted Eve, all fang and rainbows (tie-dye does that to people, Olli).

"No! Hit!"

Eve ducked and Myrnin hit Oliver with his metal pole.

"He's still got some lice," Eve popped up. "Hit him again!"

And so, Myrnin gave Oliver two bashings, one to the head, the other to the shoulders—it was the happiest day of his life.

"Fantastic!" Eve praised. "Incredible! Let's go!"

They saw Bishop as they made their way to Amelie's.

"Ah, Eve! I've been waiting for you! I want to give you the same enchantment I gave Claire when she worked for—"

"No time to chat, Bishop!" Eve proclaimed, brushing past him. "Gotta go!"

"B—but…oh," Bishop pouted. "Oh, every time I _try_ to kill one of my daughter's Glass House favorites—" he sobbed.

"Hello, Eve. Hello, Myrnin. Did you vanquish your little friend's vermin, yet?" Amelie inquired.

"You _bet_ I did!" Eve turned to Myrnin. "Get 'er, Myrnin!"

Eve ducked and Myrnin knocked Amelie unconscious.

"Ha, bitch!" Eve exclaimed with triumph. "Now Michael's all mine! Don't you even _think_ about trying to get with him because he looks like Sam, you perverted freak! The-freaking-end, you hooker!" Eve flipped Amelie the bird as she lay unconscious.

What, you thought she was going to be an android of some kind? Seriously, that's totally unbelievable.

Meanwhile, Shane is still suspended by his ankles in Myrnin's lab.


	5. Myrnin's Nightmares

What I Meant to Say: Myrnin's Nightmares

….

"Hello! As Myrnin, my life is great and enviable, but let me tell you, it ain't all a big goblet of pumpkin juice: I have seen some shit. I've been orphaned, ostracized, abused, and attacked. I have mental scars. So while I may be handsome and successful in my day life, it is at night that I can't escape from the terrible images that bounce around in the dark cavern that is my tortured noggin. Like this one time, I had a horrible nightmare…"

~Cue dream sequence~

_So I was just hanging out—being awesome—when Ada showed up. And she was all like:_

"_Myrnin, you're making no progress with the new machine, what are you planning to do about it?"_

_But she just kept getting angrier and angrier and angrier. Finally, she flipped out, and she tried to kill me with a hammer!_

~End sequence~

"Another time, I dreamt that I was dancing…"

~Sequence numero deux~

_It was beautiful. I was _so _great. But then Bishop showed up, and he started to upstage me. He did moves I'd never seen before, and all the girls were like:_

"_Ooh, he's so cool."_

_So I tried to bust a sweet move in retaliation, but suddenly my feet couldn't move!_

~End sequence~

"It sucked! Another nightmare I had…"

~Another, WTF?~

_I was pregnant, and I went into labor. [Insert Lamaze breathing here] And I gave birth to Oliver. And I had to raise him from infancy—clothe him, feed him._

_But then I misplaced him._

~End sequence _again_~

"And this was terrifying, because it meant I had failed as a parent. Oh! And one time, I dreamt that Claire was addicted to amphetamines…"

~You know the drill~

_She kept digging through my stuff, trying to find things to hock. So Shane and I held an intervention. But Claire _flipped out_, and tried to kill us with a hammer._

~End scene~

"Then another time…"

~Here we go~

_I dreamt that I was __**middle-aged**__._

~And…~

"Yuck! But the worst nightmare I ever had…"

~Last one, I hope~

_I was at Elder's Council, and I saw Amelie. She looked so decrepit and ghastly. She kept telling me that I wasn't Myrnin. And I was like:_

"_Of _course_ I'm Myrnin, Amelie."_

_But she just looked at me through those unfathomable eyes, and she told me that I was a patient in a psychiatric hospital, and that my mind had constructed this fantasy universe of vampires, all in order to escape the guilt of __**having watched my wife die**__._

~Fin~

"That sure was a spooky dream. Anyway, what are some of your worst vampire nightmares? Leave me a review, or a fan-fiction response, and remember to add this story to your favorites~!"

Amelie and Claire looked at each other oddly.

"Okay, Myrnin," said Amelie. "We _will_ do all those things you told us to do."

"_Favorite what?" _Claire whispered, and Amelie shushed her. "_Oh, well then…"_

To those of you who had no idea what was going on here, go to youtube and find the Potter Puppet Pals channel, the video entitled "Harry's Nightmares."


	6. Earring Buddies

Earring Buddies

~Based off "Mustache Buddies," by the Potter Puppet Pals~

"Oliver of Heidelberg," Bishop said the man's title with an aura of authority—though really he didn't have any, considering all he did as a "villain" was be a dick to his only daughter and had a thing for obscure literature.

"Yes, Mr. Bishop?" Oliver obviously wasn't feeling the "authority" aspect of Bishop's tone, not that receiving reverence from a guy wearing tie-dye and looked like a frequent pot smoker was really that great a thing.

"My most trusted acquaintance," okay, was he trying to butter Oliver _up_, or seduce him? These little strokes to the ego, though _highly_ intoxicating to Oliver, were heading a bit down south for his tastes—get it?

"…I am at your service?" Oliver said awkwardly, wondering where this was going.

"As the baddest villain in the series to date, I feel that my command would be more effective—" he stopped himself, he and his daughter were always partial for dramatic pauses "—if I had my _ear _pierced."

…What?

"Thoughts?" Bishop inquired.

Oliver thought he had suffered a small stroke. "Um…I'm…sure you'd look fine, sir."

"Okay, I'm gonna do it." Bishop said with eager relief, as if Oliver's approval was the last bit of insistence that would break the camel's…vampire's…cam-pire's? The last bit of insistence that would make him go for it.

Oliver blinked. "Good luck?"

"Well, hear me out, Oliver." Bishop said suddenly, a weird grin on his face. "_What if_ we _both_ got our ears pierced, huh?"

"Uh…I'm…" Did he really not notice that Oliver's ear was already pierced? Seriously, he should look it up in the first book, because when Oliver first makes an appearance he's wearing a ruby earring, obviously Bishop needs to brush up on the series a bit.

"Because if it's _just me_, people will think I'm _weird_. Like _there goes that weird guy with the earring_."

Was Oliver having a nervous breakdown? "…Nobody would think that…Mr. Bishop."

"But if we _both_ did it, it would be like a _thing_, you know? Come on, let's _rock it_, bro."

Was he even listening to Oliver, or was he so old he was deaf? "Uh," Oliver sighed. "Is this an _order_, Mr. Bishop?"

"Yes," Bishop nodded. "Ooh, can you rollerblade?"

Could Oliver _rollerblade_, how little he knew the coffee shop vampire! "Yes," he tried to sound apathetic, not wanting to bring up the Roller-Rama of 1987, where he lost magnificently to a twelve year old girl with toothpick legs, braces, pigtails, and no training, but someone had greased up his wheels before the competition, ending the dream before it even started. A century's worth of hard work down the drain. Ah, cruel fate. Oliver's life was nothing but tragedy.

"Sweet!" Bishop offered a high-five, but Oliver didn't reciprocate. His mind was full of falling on his face just as his wheels hit the wood of the rink. "My birthday's coming up. I'll send you a fa-_che _-book invite," looks like _someone's_ a prick who doesn't want to pronounce facebook like a person. "See you next week, earring buddy."

Oliver shuddered.

_I will find you, Toothpick-Braces-Pigtails Girl._

~_The Next Day, in Common Grounds_~

Claire and her little friends were seated in a booth, talking about something that was positively stupid yet again.

Oliver approached them, well aware of the _two_ earrings jingling in his ears—Bishop wanted to get matching dangly giraffe earrings from Claire's, where they got their ears pierced. The girl who did it was mean, and she didn't prep their earlobes before piercing them.

"Okay, idiots. Pay your bill or—"

They looked up, saw the earrings and started laughing, so hard that Claire's boyfriend knocked over all their hot drinks on the table where they dribbled off onto Oliver's feet.

He was wearing flip-flops.

As Oliver stood there, feet in searing agony, as the Glass House Gang laughed at both his earrings _and_ his pain. Then Eve laughed so hard that she vomited, and they ended up laughing harder.

He tried to leave his body, but all he could think of was the lost roller-skating competition of 1987.

_I will find you, Toothpick-Braces-Pigtails Girl._ Oliver thought darkly._ I will find you…and I. Will. End. You._


	7. Michael's Parents

~Michael's Parents~

~Based off "Ron's Parents," by the Potter Puppet Pals~

Michael lay sprawled out on the floor in the Glass House living room, his feet kicking idly back and forth as he lay on his stomach, pen cap in his mouth and a piece of paper before him. Suddenly, the perfect opening statement came to mind and he wrote it down:

_To Parants_

Excellent.

"Dear…Mr. and Mrs…my parents," Michael began slowly, speaking as he wrote. "I miss you," he nodded, liking how the words he spoke matched up with the words on the page perfectly. All was going smoothly. "Morganville…sucks…ass. I have almost died…more times than I can…count. See you at Christmas," now the kicker, remembering his own name and spelling it with the proper order of the last A and E. "Michael," perfect.

"Hi, Mike. What are you doing?" Shane sat onto the couch and turned on the Xbox with his toe, wireless controller in hand.

"I'm writing a letter to my parents," Michael said happily.

"Oh, your parents." Shane said quickly, setting the controller down. "Well isn't that _nice_? It's just _so nice_ that you stay in touch with you _parents_. Your nice, _living_ progenitors, who _love _you, and can _talk _to you."

"You've met my parents, Sha—"

"How does it _feel_, Mike? How does it _feel_ to receive _correspondence _from the people that brought you into existence? Does it feel _nice_? I bet it feels _nice_," Shane panted, and he was _really_ close to Michael's face now.

Michael scooted back. "Well, I…guess I like it when my parents send—"

"It's also nice to _afford things_. I _can afford things_, Michael. Can _you_ afford things?" No you can't, Shane. You're a broke-ass bum.

"…Not much…" because Michael was a musician living in a small Texas town. The pickings were slim.

Shane sat up, gazed distantly into the screen of the TV, and whispered:

"_I can afford happiness_."

Shane sat in Michael's favorite armchair and put on a crown made of tinfoil and plastic sporks.

"Sing for me!" Shane commanded and Michael began happily.

"'_Alas, my love, you do my wrong. To cast me off discourteously…_'"

"Hahahahaha, no tears here, in the court of _Happy King Shane_! No. Tears!"

"Do you want to spend Christmas with my parents, Shane?"

"_YES._"


	8. Monica Dummy

~Monica Dummy~

~Based off "Draco Puppet," by the Potter Puppet Pals~

"Hello, I'm Claire Danvers. I've been reading your reviews, and though most of you appear to be completely impressed with the quality of my work, I've noticed one recurring request. Many of you have asked for a _Monica Morrell_ skit. What a wonderful idea! I took it upon myself to bring this amazing concept into action. Here she is!"

Claire reached behind her and grabbed a Monica dummy…it was just an empty toilet paper tube with a picture of Monica's face taped to the side.

"Say hello, Monica." Claire said to the aptly named _dummy_.

"_Hello, Monica_." Claire mocked Monica's bitchiness with a nasal falsetto.

"No, say hello to the _readers_," Claire said, though it wasn't as though Monica _read_, so she probably didn't know what the word "readers" meant.

"Hello to the _readers_."

"_How dare you make a fool of me_," Claire whispered murderously. "Why don't you tell them a little about yourself, Monica?"

"Hello. I'm Monica Morrell. I'm totally rich. And I'm really proud that I'm a total slut—I mean popular. Heeheeheehee."

"Ahahahaha," Claire laughed just as fake as Monica. "What a wonderful person. Let's learn some more about Monica!"

"'_Monica likes hamsters,'_" Claire sang, allowing Myrnin's new pet hamster Wallace chew on Dummy Monica's head—the fake one, not the _real_ dummy.

"'Monica likes honey,'" Claire squeezed half a bottle on Dummy Monica's head.

"'_Monica likes toothpaste_, _**ka chk-a chk-a chk-a**_**.**" Claire used Shane's toothbrush to get the Monica dummy drenched.

"'_Monica likes money,'_" she dropped a handful of half dollars on the dummy's "body."

"'_Monica likes face paint, __**doom-da doom**__.'_" Claire slathered red on the picture of Monica's face, giving her a moustache, uni-brow and devil horns.

"'_Monica likes pliers,'_" Claire took the needle nose pliers from Shane's toolbox and started to bend Monica's face, feeling _really_ good about what she was doing.

"'_Monica likes bowling,'_" Claire placed the Monica dummy in front of Eve's _Bowling with Nuns_ set she bought from Borders.

"'_Monica like's cartwheels,'_" suddenly, the mini-fan in the kitchen finally had a true purpose.

"'_Monica likes fire_,'" Claire moved the dummy to the burner and turned it on, watching as Monica's face lit up in flames.

She whistled and blew out the fire when Monica was nearly ashes.

_Awesome_.


	9. Vamping Swears

**~Vamping Swears~**

**Based off "Wizard Swears," by the Potter Puppet Pals**

…**.**

Shane and Claire were bouncing up and down, side-by-side, on the sofa in the living room. Because, after all, what else would two, young, romantically _involved_ people do with their free time?

Myrnin popped up from seemingly nowhere, but what Claire and the others didn't know is that he actually had a portal into every conceivable space in the house.

"Guys, Amelie just posted a list of words that are banned from Morganville. I didn't know that there were new _swears_." After all, the last sort of swearing Myrnin had heard of were from Shakespeare, and those, while hilarious, lost their edge after a century or two.

"Of course they do, Myrnin." Claire answered and stopped bouncing. "They're called _vamping_ swears," which were swears used by vampires, taught to Claire and the others by Eve.

"OH! Like vampire-bum!" Shane piped in merrily.

"Really? That's adorable." Myrnin nodded.

Claire stopped glaring at Shane's stupidity, and turned to Myrnin. "Oh, they're worse than that. Read some, Myrnin."

"Let's see here," Myrnin looked at the list. "Son of a Bishop…that's useful."

"Stake-and-stab, that's my favorite." Claire nodded approvingly.

A low, unspeakable, grumbling sound emitted from the halls of the house like an unholy rumble of thunder. Oliver, somehow able to enter the house on his own, stormed into the living room.

"Do my ears detect foul-mouthedness?" He asked, oddly calm.

"O-Oh," Claire stammered. "No, Oliver—"

"—_Bishop's nipple!_" Myrnin exclaimed.

"_Excuse_ me?" Oliver growled.

"_Myrnin!_" Claire sent him a cutting whisper.

"I refuse to have this _filth _spewed in my presence, Myrnin. I will rip your limbs from you—"

"Holy water sprinkles," Shane vamp-cursed, as if it would be effective.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Everybody run," Myrnin whispered. "_AMELIE'S UVULA!_"

They ran away, and left Oliver alone to sigh. "_Rabble-rousers._"

Once away, and in the secret room, they stopped to laugh.

"Oh, that was fun." Myrnin sighed contentedly. "Oh," his face dropped. "Hello, _Michael_."

"Hello, Myrnin. Claire. Ron." Michael, who was sitting on the sofa for no explainable reason, greeted them meekly. "W-What's up, guys?"

"We're saying _vampiric_ naughty words, like silvery-galvanizing!" Shane spoke up giddily.

Michael's face made an expression like this **:O**

"Oh," he stood, and started looking about for an escape, even though he knew where the door was and stuff. I mean, it's not like the secret room is just full of doors and stuff. "M-My grandfather _forbids_ me from using raunchy language."

"Well, your grandfather is a blast-ended man-whore," Myrnin, who was still peeved at Sam for taking away Amelie, the woman who was as close as a sister to him, said scornfully.

Michael's face went from **:O **to **o.o**

"He doesn't mean it, Michael. He's just testing out some vamping-swears."

"I mean every word I ever say _ever_, because I'm the _**amazing Myrnin.**_"

Thunder sounds from overhead.

"I'm telling Amelie," Michael made his way for the door he just recently located.

"You're such a _stake-head_," Shane shouted at him for being such a pansy.

"Th-this is against the rules!" He tried to get past them.

Myrnin blocked his exit. "I can't let you do that, Michael."

Michael tried to get around him.

"N-No, I don't want to swear, my grandfather doesn't want me swear."

Myrnin blocked him again.

"Are you a vampire or _not_, Michael?"

"I _am_ a vampire, b-b-but…" Michael protested.

"Then try it," Myrnin thrust the list at him. "Here's the list, say anything."

Michael struggled to not look at it.

"You can do it, Michael." Claire encouraged him to break the law in a kind voice.

"O-Oliver's…butt-quack."

"Yaaaaay!" Claire and Shane cheered for their friend, because now they were _all _guilty of breaking the law _together_. Friendship runs deep in the Glass House. However, they have not questioned where Eve is, even though she's hanging from the roof after trying to take down the Christmas lights, and is still there as they sat in that secret room, cursing.

The room fell into silence.

Myrnin seemed the most silent.

"You _sicken_ me," he said darkly.

"B-but, it's on the list—"

"Oliver is _ten_ times the man you'll ever be, Michael." Though, as Myrnin said it, his toes were digging so hard into his flip-flops that they were breaking, because he was lying _that_ much.

Michael slunk down the stairs.

"Leave Morganville, Michael Glass. Never come back." Myrnin warned darkly.

Michael walked away sniveling.

Silence.

More silence.

More silence still.

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" Shane and Claire cheered.

"You're quite the hellion today, Myrnin." Claire commended.

"Yeah, you're rife with _boyish attitude_." WHOA! Shane knows the word _rife_? That's it. The world is ending. I'm going to go say goodbye to my family and loved ones—wait, I'll finish the fic first. _Mooooooving _on.

"Hey, let's do a prank call!" Myrnin cheered, and took Claire's cell phone from her pocket.

It rang, and rang and rang….

"Theodosius Goldman speaking."

"Silver Powder Waffle," Myrnin burst out.

"What? You kids! If I ever find out who's calling me, I will call the vampire court, and you will go to vampire jail, and I'll _kill_ you, because I'm Theodosius—"

"Here they are," Oliver entered the secret room, with Amelie beside him.

"Oliver would like to have a word with you, children." Amelie seemed particularly apathetic today. **Amelie's thoughts: [Dear god, I wish Oliver would bathe more. He smells like broccoli and…poo**.]

"Oh _zombie _turds," Claire muttered.

"_That_ is exactly the sort of vulgarity that I want to eradicate from the distinguished town of Morganville." Eerie organ music began to echo through the room. Myrnin looked around, trying to find the source. "The traditions of this school must be upheld and respected, the Ancients would—"

"Mortal f***ing troll $hit, Oliver!"

"_What?_"

"You floppy-fanged Common Grounds boggerer!"

Silence.

More silence.

More silence still.

"Monica's sock," Shane cut in.

"Amelie, I _urge _you to banish these monsters."

"Oh, Oliver, let them have their flap-doodle."

Myrnin's eyes went like this **o.o **at Amelie's choice of words.

"But, you're the one who banned the words in the first place!" Oliver whined like a child.

"I don't even remember _five_ minutes ago." **Amelie's thoughts: [Time flies when you're an icy bitch. -_-] **"Back to your skulking."

Oliver disappeared, muttering.

"Thank you so much, Amelie." Claire thanked her so wholeheartedly, that Shane made a pissy little jealous face.

"Alas, you're welcome."

"…Amelie? You're obscenely old, right?" Myrnin asked slowly.

"Why, _yes_." She nodded.

"Do you know any…super-ancient, lost-to-the-ages, archaic, olden-times vamping-swears?" That's a _lot_ of hyphens, Myrnin. This writer was very displeased.

"Ahhh…well this _is_ one…"

"I want to hear it!" Shane chirped.

"The Elder's swear," Amelie began reverently. "You must never repeat it to _anyone_."

"We _won't,_ ma'am." Claire nodded.

"Here it is:" Amelie took in a deep breath:

"Your mother is a ***ing *** lorem ipsum *** admiumvenium *** turolag ulio *** hippopotamus *** Republican ***** Daniel Radcliffe ****** with a bucket of *** in a castle far away where no one can hear you**** soup *** with a bucket of **** Mickey Mouse *** with a stick of dynamite ******** magical ****** ALAKAZAM! Now you know. You must never repeat it."

SILENCE.

Myrnin's face was like this: **O_x**

"…Woooooow…" Shane marveled, amazed that someone knew so many words and were able to string them together in coherent thought.

"Now you know," Amelie nodded. "You must never, _ever_ repeat it. Okay?"

The _Twilight Zone _theme played, and if this were a TV show, the camera would have panned to Myrnin, and zoomed in.

"We _won't_, ma'am." Myrnin said sweetly.

~Later…~

Everyone was saying the Elder's swear, together, with Michael in the center, trying to escape.

_**The End**_


	10. Author's Note

**Very Important Author's Note:**

**So, I'm on hiatus, guys.**

I've done some major soul-searching, legitimately spiritual, and I've come to a revelation.

I need to take a break from writing fan fiction. I'm neglecting my own writing, and on some occasions even my own well-being and faith.

So, for now, this story, and all stories, are on hiatus.

I'm sorry if this angers or saddens any of you, but I feel honestly compelled to do this.

I may return later, but not now.

If you're a Christian, and for whatever reason interested in _why _I'm taking a break, feel free to PM me.

You can still leave reviews and send me notes if you guys have questions, I will be checking in on those actively and will try to give you feedback.

But, for now, this is it.

I love you guys!

Stay gold, space cowboys.

~*Madelyn Grey*~


End file.
